Kiss Me At Midnight
by thesolitary-dragon
Summary: After the events of WSL, HK and Ash Q. are in Greece.  One's there on business, and one's looking for love.  But why is Ashley suddenly dragging every man she meets to Aphrodite's Rock wanting to kiss him at midnight?
1. Aphrodite's Rock

A/N: Originally, this was going to be a one-shot. But I decided to break it down into short chapters. I was also, originally, going to wait until I had finished writing the entire thing before posting it. But then, it's Valentine's Day, and I thought, it would be perfect to post the first chapter now, so that you can all see what I've been working. And that I haven't forgotten about the Recess section, and my Recess fanfic readers. To which, I should probably apologize, I'm _really, really, really, really_ sorry that all I've been updating is Rocket Power fics. I just got an itch, and had to scratch. Sorry.

Um, so...oh, this was also supposed to be a New Years Eve story, but that changed, as I hadn't written it fast enough (nor developed the story fast enough). So now, it's just a love story.

Summary: This takes place after Where the Skeletons Lie. If you haven't read it, don't fret. You'll probably just be asking, "What's going on with all the characters? Why is this like this, and such and such?"...yeah, I try and explain where I can but...onto the Summary! While in Greece, Francis tells Ashley Q. an interesting story about a particular rock. Now, Ash goes out on a man-hunt...but will she find the one thing she's never experience; love? Or just turn up fling after fling?

Yay! Finally! A non-TJ/Spin centric fanfic! I knew I could do it...I just knew I could...

Oh, and pertaining to Killing the Daisies. I may just write out the last chapters and update it all at once. Or not. I haven't decided. I'm actually thinking of renovating the ending, I may not, but I may. I don't know. Um...this is only going to be maybe three, four chapters long. And I'll try and get them written and posted asap. I'll work on it first and foremost, nothing else...maybe. No guarantees. I won't update anything else until this is finished, how's that?

Oi...um...ENJOY!

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Kiss Me At Midnight

Chapter 1: Aphrodite's Rock

Bright lights bristled along the dusty gravel roads, illuminating a quiet couple making their way up the street, silently pacing side-by-side. Houses lined the walk, ancient structures with paper thin walls and a structural integrity that gave the impression it would collapse within itself any moment. But they held. The streets were unusually bustling, with a small crowd. The couple was handsome, a young man and woman; both brunette and healthy. The woman was beautiful, her hair falling in layered curls, her eyes a bright blue. She wore large jeans, rolled at the cuffs, and a soft, powder blue t-shirt that was long in length but pulled tautly around her chest and stomach. Her skin was slightly colored, from an obviously healthy exposure to the sun and she wore little more than glimmering lip gloss on her face. Her companion was taller, his hair mussed slightly. He too was dressed in baggy jeans, brown in color, and was wearing a black vintage tee, decaled with the emblazoned emblem of the band Guns n' Roses, and despite the warm weather, he was wearing a long brown trench coat.

They were solemn faced, the woman wearing a soft smile, the man shyly walking beside her his eyes downcast. She paused at a stand along the street, looking over the multiple fabrics on display.

"Come on, Ashley," the man said, "I thought you wanted to see some sights."

"I know, I know…" the woman, Ashley, muttered, running her hands over a smooth cotton shawl before returning it and turning her attention on a small knit scarf, "You're such a prude, Francis. I'm only looking. I know you need to meet this buyer on time tonight, but still…"

"There's better shopping elsewhere," Francis interrupted, "I'll take you there later."

"Later, you keep saying later…" Ashley teased. They'd arrived in Cyprus, Greece nearly three days before, and kept trying to make plans that kept getting pushed back because of Francis's business. He'd planned on meeting with his buyer on the first night, so that he could get that over and done with and show Ashley a good time in Greece, but the buyer had to bail. And continued to bail, and reschedule, and bail, and so on. It was annoying, but Francis was a business man and these were the ways of business. He had to be patient if he wanted to make a good sell.

When they'd landed in Greece, the first words to escape Ashley's lips was a comment on how she'd never been to Cyprus. She'd been astounded by the simple beauty of the landscape as they rode in their rented car to the motel where they'd be staying. It was all so new to Ashley. They rode coach, and she'd given an hourly commentary on every person in the plane, and even extended fashion advice to the balding man next to her. A miniature car, as opposed to a limo and chauffeur. She'd never driven before so Francis let her give it a try. He now smiled at the memory of their stop and go ride and how quickly she caught on to tearing down the roads and breaking suddenly before running down a man and his herd of goats. It had aggravated his injuries, still remaining from that week in their hometown, but her smile and genuine laughter was enough to erase that pain.

The week in their hometown was something neither wanted to speak about, but it remained freshly on their minds. They had been two of fifteen pact signers, having attempted to bury and forget a simple accident in their childhood. But when the fifteen conspirators were mysteriously, and seemingly, coincidentally, back home at the same time, that past was dredged up. Francis placed his hand on Ashley's shoulder, gently leading her away from the small peddler stand. They weren't in Greece to think about an insane little girl that was supposed to be dead and broken dolls. They were there to enjoy themselves.

Francis had always known the beautiful brunette woman next to him as Ashley Q., one of four young ladies by the name of Ashley. They'd grown up together in their little town at Third Street Elementary. The Ashleys club had been troublesome, malicious, and down right annoying. But the more time Francis spent with only her, the more she became just plain Ashley. She was smart, and could easily catch on to things. She was starting to stray away from the things that made Ashleys - well, Ashleys. She was still interested in fashion, still spent an hour each morning primping, but she didn't giggle in the high-pitched manner of her youth, didn't make snide comments as often, and was beginning to lose her snobbish air. The fact she was wearing a pair of Francis's pants, which she'd borrowed for their stroll, and comfortable tennis shoes was more than evident of her change. She was becoming more than bearable. She was becoming someone that Francis…liked.

Ashley skipped forward, running her hand through her hair and laughing. She had been to Greece often. Her family had spent a great deal of time traveling as she grew up, and her first husband, whom she'd recently divorced from, had sometimes taken her on his business trips out of country. But she'd never enjoyed being in a foreign place before. It was strange. Prior to her trip with Francis, she'd always stayed in fancy five-star hotel suites, been driven around in limos anywhere she wanted to go, escorted by competent translators and guides, waited on by paid servants, and wine and dined in the most upper scale of restaurants. But she found herself genuinely laughing, when Francis attempted to communicate with a local who spoke only Greek, flipping through his translation dictionary. She'd never tasted better Greek food than that in the small seedy diners Francis treated her to. And she'd never been more comfortable then in that small hotel, and walking around the streets side-by-side with Francis, navigating aimlessly with no idea of what direction they were headed. It was a new experience. Her life had always been perfectly planned out, perfectly directed, perfectly perfect.

For the first time ever, Ashley had drank hard liquor. Before, she'd only had high-priced champagne, delicately aged, with gourmet dinners. But she'd sat on the floor of their motel room, they had to share as no extra rooms were available, and played a drinking game, that Francis taught her, with a deck of cards; shots of tequila lined up. Within moments, she was giggling giddily and pink-faced. She'd never laughed so hard. She'd slept on the bed, Francis taking the cot set up for them by the motel manager. Growing up, she'd slept on silk sheets and soft down mattresses, but never had she slept so well than she had those past nights on that hard spring bed and rough cotton blanket.

It seemed as though Ashley was experiencing life in a whole different way. Like she was relearning to do everything. As though, she knew how to walk but she'd never done it before, and suddenly she was running.

The breeze from the shore brushed along Ashley's face, and she smiled, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath of the salty air. Suddenly, her blood pumped anxiously through her veins, and her heart gave a kick.

"I'll race you to the beach," she announced, catching Francis by surprise as she broke into a sprint towards the horizon of deep blue.

"Ashley…" he began calling after her before grinning and following.

They reached the water's edge in a stumble, and Ashley kicked off her shoes and socks, feeling the wet sand between her toes. It was cold and smooth. She fell back, pressing her palms into it, wanting to soak up all of it, wanting to feel it all against her. Francis shook his head, falling to his knees in front of her, trying to catch his breath. He was smiling broadly.

"What are you doing?" he asked softly.

"I envy the fish," she mumbled, looking out at the ocean, "They always get to see this."

"They're under the water, they don't get to see any of it," Francis replied, chuckling somewhat, and sitting next to her.

"Just ruin it," Ashley grumbled.

"What?"

"I'm trying to be…to be…romantic," she said, smiling and nodding approval of the word, "Yeah, I'm trying to be romantic."

"You chose a good place," Francis told her, motioning towards a large rock jutting from the shore into the ocean, "That's Aphrodite's rock. Aphrodite, goddess of love, according to legend, rose out of the ocean at that spot." Ashley eyed the rock bemused. She tilted her head, pursing her lips, examining it. Francis smirked, dusting off his jeans and hands, "There's a…well…a story about that rock. They say, if you kiss the person you like on it, at midnight, then that person will return the feelings."

"Really?" Ashley murmured, staring at it in awe.

"Yup."

"Maybe I should have kissed my husband - I mean, ex-husband - on that rock."

Francis stood, extending a hand, and Ashley accepted it. She grabbed her socks and shoes, reluctantly padding barefoot after Francis, back up to the pathway to continue walking. She glanced back, frowning. She'd come to Greece to find love, something she admittedly had yet to experience. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps that rock would help change that.

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END A/N: When Ashley said "I'm trying to be romantic," she didn't mean it like that. Romanticism is a style of writing, and a lifestyle as well. For those of you who don't know, and that's what she's referencing to. Um...

I bet you all missed me and my stories, huh? Come on, you can tell me. And you know how to, also. Just click that button down there and REVIEW!

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors...I think I proofread this chapter...um...

AND THANKS FOR READING. Chapter 2 is almost finished...and will probably be up later tonight, or tomorrow. No promises, though.


	2. Looking For Love

A/N: OKAY, I know I said I would have it up "tomorrow", which was, yesterday. However, I forgot that "tomorrow", was a tuesday, my busiest day of the week. Yeah, I have a class on the other side of town at 2:30 (Private guitar lessons, you see), and because my aunt lives over on that side of town, I go an visit. Of course, yesterday, my car broke down, which was a pain. I had to call my dad, and he came and fixed it. Yup. You see, my car was in the shop for like three/four weeks, and as it turned out, the repairman forgot to securely connect one of the wires that was necesary to make the car "go". It wasn't getting a spark, my dad said. Anyways, after that, I went to the bookstore (didn't have time to visit my aunt, major dissapointment), and then, I had a class at 6 pm. Creative writing, fun! Then I came home and ate, and...um...worked on this chapter, I think. But I didn't get it finished anyways, so, here it is.

Thanks for the reviews:

TNPD: Man, I missed thanking you for reviews. Did you miss me too? I had a hunch you might like this one, HK is your fave character if I remember correctly.

TheAngelofAnarchy: OI! I got tackled? Oh man...um...I'm sorry it's weird, the refering to Ash Q. as just Ashley. I figured since she was the only one in it, I could save time and just leave the "Q" off. It also makes it somewhat more personal, gives her center stage. At least, in my opinion. This takes place during the "epilogue" of WSL, and, well, Francis is in touch with Spinelli, so...aw, you'll see, just read. No, this won't really deal a great amount with Greek mythology, though I could talk about Greek mythology if you wanted. It's the one Pantheon I know a butt-load about. Actually, Ash Q. and Francis are in Cyprus, Greece, which is (as was stated in the 1st chapter) the legendary birthplace of Aphrodite, goddess of love. Supposedly, that rock is where she rose out of the sea in her giant shell. An interesting tidbit, she rose out from the direction in which Zeus threw Chronos's (his father's)testicles. So that leaves one question: Who parented Aphrodite? This isn't the only questionable birth in the Greek mythology, what about Athena, born out of Zeus's head? That was a weird one. ANYWAYS...

MagistrixMundi: Yup. I'm baaaaack! Kind of...I'm still posting RP fics, but I'm trying to get this one up. Um...I forgot to mention, actually, in the 1st chapter. The story Francis tells about the kissing at midnight on the rock is made up. Came straight from my noggin. However, Aphrodite's rock is real, and it really is located in Greece. I tried to find a local legend to work in to my story, but it was a total bust.

Here it is...ENJOY!

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Chapter 2: Looking for Love

Francis plopped on the bed, attempting to tug his shoe on while holding the phone up to his ear with his shoulder. It wasn't an easy feat.

"Ash, you need to back up," Francis was saying. On the other line was Ashley Spinelli, another girl from his hometown. A girl he was in love with. A girl who wasn't in love with him.

"I don't know what to do, Frankie," Spinelli mumbled. She'd been crying. Francis could tell. Spinelli had recently broke up with her long time boyfriend, and lifetime best friend, TJ Dettweiler. Mostly for reasons tied to the pact. They had been two more names amongst those fifteen.

"So, he's sending your back your stuff. What's the big deal?" Francis questioned, wincing. That didn't come out right.

"What's the big deal? _What's the big deal_?" Spinelli cried shrilly, then softening, "I don't know. I keep thinking I'll get over it and…"

"What do you want to do?" Francis asked, "Go back to him?"

"No," Spinelli spat, "I have to do this. I have to be alone for awhile. I have to see what it's like…you know…to be without the great TJ Dettweiler." Francis looked up, seeing Ashley come from the bathroom. Her hair was wet, she'd just finished taking a shower. She was wearing a large t-shirt, loose shorts. They'd only been there a couple days, so Francis had never seen her so relaxed. She looked pretty. Intriguingly so.

"Is that the buyer?" she whispered, and he shook his head, returning to his shoes, "Good, because if he cancels again tonight…"

"Who's that?" Spinelli inquired, interest obviously piqued, "Is that a girl? Frankie, do you have a girl with you." Francis blushed, triumphantly getting his shoe on and switching the phone to his other ear.

"Not really," he mumbled quietly, "It's Ashley Q."

"_What_? Ashley Q.? As in, Ashley Quinlin?"

"Yeah. She came with me to Greece," Francis answered sheepishly. He hadn't expected such an incredulous reaction.

"Are you kidding me? She came with you…not both of you went and happened to run into one another? She went _with _you?"

"Yes. I asked her…and she came," Francis muttered in explanation, glancing to Ashley who was flipping through a catalogue of tourist sights and recommended restaurants, oblivious to his conversation.

"Have you completely lost it? She's an Ashley! She's one of them!"

"Calm down," Francis whispered, "She's a really good person. I'm actually…well…having fun."

"Do you…do you like her?"

"I guess," Francis answered, "We're getting along."

"I mean, do you _like_ her."

"Uh…" Francis glanced back to Ashley, who'd closed the catalogue and was looking around for something else to do. She sat Indian style on the bed, sitting up and arcing her back. She was extremely attractive, with long smooth legs and arms, soft brown curls, bright blue eyes, a creamy complexion and slightly colored cheeks. She noticed he was looking at her and smiled. "I don't know," Francis mumbled in the phone, "I got to go, kid, you gonna be alright?"

"Yeah. I'll call you later," Spinelli answered haggardly, "Bye."

"Bye."

Francis hung up, tucking the phone in his jacket and smiling grimly at Ashley.

"That was Spinelli," he told her. Ashley frowned, looking to her fingernails. She and Spinelli weren't the best of friends, but they weren't worst enemies, either…anymore.

"How's she?"

"I think she may be getting better. TJ has started sending her stuff back to her," Francis said, with a heavy sigh. He sat down on the bed next to Ashley, running his hands over his face.

"I don't see why you don't just go back," Ashley stated, "You love her. Go to her, be with her, and maybe she'll see how much you've always been there for her, and fall in love with you in return, and you two will live happily ever after."

"I'm going to meet with my buyer," Francis said, peeved. He wasn't even going to dignify her 'suggestion' with a response, "What are you going to do while I'm gone?"

"There's a dance club not far down the road," Ashley replied, "I think I'm gonna go. Maybe meet a few guys."

"Oh," Francis mouthed. He hadn't expected that kind of answer. It bothered him for some reason.

"I mean, I, like, came here to meet guys, right? To look for love? So I need to get started," Ashley explained, "I've got it all worked out, too. That rock, you showed me earlier, it's like totally the perfect place to realize I'm in love with someone. I just need to find the right guy and take him to that rock, kiss him, fall in love, and live happily ever after."

"Oh."

"It's a good thing I brought my blue mini-dress," Ashley chirruped, "I'll see you later, then?"

"Yeah," Francis nodded, lifting himself up and taking a deep breath, "Later." He walked out the door, glancing over his shoulder briefly to see Ashley rummaging through her pack in search of her dress. He frowned, shutting the door behind him and leaving towards their rented car.

-0-0-

Ashley settled herself at the bar, glancing around the room. The dance floor was crowded with couples enjoying themselves. She smiled at the bartender, accepting the drink he brought her and sipping it considerately before taking in the men around her. She immediately identified the attractive, single ones. It had been a long time since she'd gone out with the purpose of attracting attention from the opposite sex, and it was frustratingly obvious as she straightened her curls and flashed a soft flirtatious smile in a young man's direction. To her relief, he returned the smile, coming up to the bar.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hello."

"Care if I join you?"

"Sure," she answered. He sat down, buying himself another drink and her a refill. They settled into a conversation. He introduced himself as Cadmon.

"You're from America?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am."

"I can tell," Cadmon informed her carefully, "The way you talk. How are you liking it here?"

"It's beautiful," she answered, "I mean, I've been to Greece before…but I'm here with this guy, and he has no concept of luxury travel. He's so laid back, too. I've just…never…been here to soak in the sights before. It was always about shopping and sunbathing on the beach. But with him, it's about the cultural experience, living like a local. It's just…like, almost as though I've never been to Greece before."

"Oh, he's your boyfriend?"

"My what…?" Ashley stammered, "Oh no…no. He's a friend, kind of."

"Ah. You speak about him like he's your boyfriend," Cadmon pointed out. Ashley slumped.

"Do you…maybe, want to dance?" she asked, pointing to the floor. He nodded, leading her into the crowd. She tried to put her mind to the moves, smiling somewhat as Cadmon lightly touched her hip, but she was thinking about the conversation. She didn't speak about Francis as though he were her boyfriend, did she? It's not as though she likes him. At least, not in that manner.

It didn't matter anyways, Ashley told herself. He's in love with Spinelli. Either way, he's not her boyfriend. She had to concentrate on finding love. It was important.

-0-0-

Francis laid the pictures out for his buyer, Tony Salazar, to look at. They were seated in Tony's office, at his warehouse. Tony was a collector of fine artwork, and a big shark. He paid big, and had already bought three pieces from Francis.

"It's sixteenth century," Francis said, "Authenticated by the best appraiser I got. You can have your own boys look at it, if you want."

"Don't be so fretful, Frank," Tony laughed, "I trust you. If you say it is, then it is. How much?"

"I was thinking somewhere along the lines of thirty," Francis answered. Tony frowned, lifting the picture up and squinting at it. He looked as though he didn't approve, and that would have Francis worried, if he was paying attention. His mind was back at the motel. That's not to say he was carefree. In fact, he was very worried at the moment. About Ashley. She was out at night, looking for guys, by herself. She didn't know the area, she was in a strange place, she didn't know the people.

In fact, Francis realized, Ashley didn't know what to expect. She was a rich girl, well-bred, and unaccustomed to the common sense of walking in a strange neighborhood. She wasn't street wise. She could be in trouble, Francis realized with a pounding heart, attacked by some strange men, brutalized, robbed…raped. The thought was terrifying. After everything they'd been through, back in their hometown…

"Twenty," Tony offered. Francis snapped back, his eyes looking to the pictures, trying to register what was going on.

"Done," Francis answered, without thinking, "Twenty it is. I got to go. We'll make the final arrangements later…" He all but bolted from the warehouse to the rented car, leaving a very stunned Tony, who had been expecting a little more of a bartering session.

Francis arrived back at the motel room shortly, finding no trace of the young woman he was sharing it with. He decided to look at the dance club she mentioned, driving down the road to the small building that was unmistakably it. He paused, seeing her make her way outside. She looked a little disgruntled, her heels in her hand, her hair a mess. She tugged at the hem of her skirt, as though trying to pull it farther down her thigh, and stopped to run a finger under the bottom of her lip in an attempt to fix the messed make-up. Francis opened the car door, stepping out slightly and hesitantly called to her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, smiling, making her way over. She placed a hand on her hip, staring at him patiently.

"Um…the deal went faster than I thought, so I decided to come by and see if you wanted…dinner maybe?" Francis said, spieling out the first thing that came to mind. She frowned, looking back at the nightclub.

"I guess," she sighed, "But I'm probably a mess."

"No," Francis started, then smirking, "Well, kind of." He leaned forward to wipe the smeared mascara from the corner of her eye, "I guess that's a little better. It doesn't matter. You still look beau- I mean, pretty…well…nice. Um…Come on, get in." She nodded, crossing to the passenger side, and they both slipped in the car.

"You have no idea how many guys I danced with tonight," she moaned, and Francis almost scowled. Why should I care, he questioned himself. "And they were all cute, all sweet…and I got to the kiss and…well…it just didn't click. Isn't love supposed to click?"

"Why you asking me?"

"Because you've been in love," Ashley pressed, as Francis backed the car out of the parking lot and tore down the road. He knew of a small restaurant, bayside, seafood that he thought she might like.

"Well it doesn't always click," Francis replied, "I mean…I guess. I suppose, sometimes, you can fall in love and not even realize you're in love." Ashley shrugged, leaning back heavily into the car seat.

"I hate this dress," she muttered.

"Then why are you wearing it?"

"Because," she sighed, "It makes me look sexy, drives all the guys crazy…it's very 'Ashley-like'. In fact, I bought it with all the Ashleys. We all have matching ones, different colors…"

"Friendships are weird," Francis commented, "Thank God I'm a loner." Ashley shook her head at him, chuckling slightly before pulling the visor down and attempting to fix her hair in the small mirror. "You look fine," he assured her, "Why are you worried? It's just dinner with me."

"You never know…I may meet Mr. Right at the restaurant," Ashley joked. They parked, and exited the car. Francis opened the restaurant door for her and they were seated at a small table.

"You know, you may be going about this wrong," Francis commented, "Some people don't look highly on girls who go around kissing every guy they come across."

"I don't kiss every guy," Ashley scoffed, rolling her eyes, "I'm not going to push myself on a gay guy, sheesh, or someone I'm completely un-attracted to."

"Oh, well, excuse me. I didn't realize you had morals," Francis sarcastically drawled, opening the menu. Ashley followed suit. They were quiet a moment.

"You worried about Spinelli?" Ashley finally spoke up.

"Why would you ask that?" Francis retorted, lowering the menu and leaning back. The waitress brought them drinks, and they fell silent until she left.

"You shouldn't be, if you are. I hate to admit it, but she's more than capable of handling herself," Ashley went on, taking a sip of the water in front of her.

"You're right, she is."

"And whatever happens is beyond your control, you know. She's all the way in the states, and you're…well, in Greece," Ashley laughed slightly, straightening her place mat, "It's funny, really."

"How's that?"

"I always thought I was better than her. More sophisticated, more mature…I exuded everything an Ashley was supposed to be and she was the complete opposite," Ashley mumbled, "And look at us both now. She's in the states mourning this break-up with this guy she really loved, and I'm here in Greece with you after divorcing my first husband, who I _didn't _love, and trying to figure everything out. She may never move on, and I've already considered a half-dozen guys as perspective future mates."

"That's not really funny," Francis commented, "That's kind of sad."

"It is. I want to be in love," Ashley murmured, "I want to know what it's like. It's the one thing I'm missing out on…seeing the other Ashleys with their significant others…even Ashley B. with her jerk ex…I mean…it's not really fair." She straightened, determination lighting up her eyes, "No more fooling around. No more tight mini-dresses and nightclubs. I haven't gotten anywhere with it tonight. I have a plan, and tomorrow morning, I'm putting it in action."

"That sounds a lot like the old Ashley Q.," Francis said, "You gonna fill me in on this plan?"

"You'll see tomorrow. How was business?'

"Um…" Francis stuttered, surprised by the sudden change of conversation, as the waitress came by. She motioned to the candle in the middle of their table, leaning forward to light it, "Well, ma'am, actually that…"

"What can I get for the both of you?" the woman asked, straightening and looking pleasantly to each of them, "We have a 1967 bottle of Merlot on stock, and the Halibut is fresh."

"Um…" Francis stammered, looking helplessly to Ashley, who simply smiled.

"I think we need a little more time to decide, thank you," she said, and the waitress nodded, leaving them. Francis moved forward to blow the candle out and Ashley shook her head, "Leave it," she grinned, "We can just play along…" she leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, "I want to see how the renowned hustler wines and dines a lovely lady."

"Well, we'd have to find a lovely lady first," Francis joked, and Ashley batted her eyes.

"I know it's a stretch," she whispered, "But we can pretend." He grinned, relaxing back in the chair. She didn't look half-bad in the candlelight as it was. They settled into a conversation about his sell that day, and he noted, not for the first time since they'd arrived in Greece, how much nicer she looked when she wasn't all done up. He also noticed, how she smiled slightly when he made a joke, and how much softer and whimsical her laughter was when it was genuine. And he frowned slightly, when he took note of how flushed he felt and how his heart pounded when she reached forward to touch his hand when breaking into his dialogue to comment on something he'd said.

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END A/N: Phew...what's gonna happen next? This is going so quick, and I apologize. It's not my best work. But I loved the idea of the story, and I'm absolutely falling in love with the HK/AshQ romance. I don't know why. It just sort of worked it's way into the WSL story, and now, I can't get enough of it. I've never seen it written anywhere else, but maybe someone else should give it a try. See what they get. That would be awesome.

I think I may be able to work this into two more chapters, but I'm not sure. We'll see how that goes. I don't know how long it'll be before the next update, but I'll work as hard as pie. Um...did that make any sense? Pie? _Where did that come from?_

Please excuse any grammatical and typing errors. _**REVIEW**_! Because it's fun for me, and...I'll love you.

THANKS FOR READING!


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